


Stand By Me

by XiaoPingguo69



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: GueiMeis but with a lot of angst and a happy ending, I had my playlist on while writing this, Latino Gueira, Lots of song references, M/M, Meis the Texan, Promare Telepahy, Promare can communicate through dreams???, Song references, Teen Romance, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21973615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiaoPingguo69/pseuds/XiaoPingguo69
Summary: Gueira tries to forget about Meis after a frantic breakup text but ends up wallowing in memories of him. He tries to ignore the voice in his head, telling him to burn, but to no avail. Then, everything changes when he sees a blue beast manifest on T.V....and begins to think of 'him'.((I'm bad at summaries, sorry))
Relationships: Gueira/Meis (Promare)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	1. When The Night, Has Come

**Author's Note:**

> A small preview of a possible fic idea I got after reading another fic that had the two speaking Spanish!
> 
> ((I'm unsure about continuing it, but if you would like this fic to come into reality, leave a Kudo / Comment!!))

Gueira rolled the pencil across the table, for how long, he didn’t know.  
He leaned back in his tall stool, staring at the large vessel of spinning, bubbly laundry.  
15 minutes left.  
Gueira sighed as he leaned back to lay all four chair legs on the tile.  
Then, his phone buzzed.  
Meis.  
He quickly swiped up his phone and began reading the message.  
  
 _You at the Laundromat?_  
  
Gueira began to type, the clicking sounds following his fingers’ movements.  
  
 _Yeah. Washing Grandma’s quilts._ _  
__Dang._ _  
__Hey, I think I see you._ _  
__Where?_ _  
__Next to the T.V. showing “_ _La Rosa de Guadalupe”_ _._  
  
Gueira leaned back in his chair again, his neck craning back to eye the T.V. that was mounted behind him.  
He saw a lady dramatically fall to the ground, followed by a crossfade to a white rose forming on an altar.  
The teen rolled his cranberry eyes.  
Yep, he was here.  
  
He texted back.  
  


_I brought some snacks if you wanna come and visit me across the washers??_

Three dots blinked.

Meis replied in emoji

👀🆙

Upon closing his phone with a click of the power button, he saw a familiar head of falling blue-black locks in the black screen, smiling slyly down at him.

“Hey, man,” Meis said, sharing their usual, elaborate handshake.

“Hey, Dude.” Gueira greeted with a nudge on Meis’ shoulder following their display of bro-ness.  
“What’s up?”  
“Nothing much...just homework.”  
“That outline for our argument essay?”  
“Yeah...how am I supposed to support this idea that I barely know nothing about?”  
“Why don’t you look it up?”  
“No data.”  
“F*cky-lucky. In that case, want to use my laptop?”  
“You brought your computer to a washateria...?”  
“Yeah. I had to turn it in.”  
“Alright...”  
  


Gueira logged in, and opened up his browser, making a pleased whistle at what appeared on the front screen of the browser.  
“Hey, look, they got _Loteria_!”

“Really?” Meis turned the screen brighter with a push of a button on the keyboard. “Cool….”  
“Wanna play?”

Meis gave a mischievous grin to his friend.

“Sure.”

\-----------------------

“How come I couldn’t win in any live matches?!” Gueira exasperated, kicking up a pile of nearby leaves.

“It’s rigged. Has to be.” Meis stated, breath making small clouds in the chilly air.

“The opponents are CPUs. Like in Smash.”

“Yep.”  
Gueira sighed, his shoulders slowly relaxing as he calmed down.  
  
His head turned to face the paler male beside him.  
“Mom’s making chicken and rice, want to come over and have some?”  
Meis thought it over for a moment, his eyes staring off into the distance at the lowering orange sun on the horizon.  
“Sure. I haven’t eaten anything all day.”  
“You really need to eat some breakfast,” The loud redhead began, his voice rising in volume a tad bit. “Mom says it’s the most important meal of the day.”  
“I suppose so. Also, how’s your grandmother?”  
“Abuela? She’s been really good since she got back from the hospital.” Gueira answered, breathing his warm breath into his hands as he rubbed them together to retain the warmth.  
“I’m glad to hear she’s doing better since... _that_ happened...” Meis mentioned, knowing not to elaborate any more on the event.  
Gueira looked down at his feet, tangerine and brown leaves snapping dryly under his heel.  
“Yeah.”  
  
The two strolled down the sidewalks, Gueira pulling along their laundry baskets, one strapped atop the other, taller one with wheels at the bottom. Slightly dragging along the rugged, cracked concrete.  
The boys talked about school and its woes of junior year. They babbled about shows and random memes. They reminisced about life. All in all, just another day for the two as they made their way through the streets of the suburbs.  
  
Soon, they finally came to Gueira’s apartment complex.  
The two helped each other lift the semi-heavy laundry basket up the rocky, concrete stairs, which proved to be a greater challenge than the two had previously predicted.  
Ten minutes later, they slumped down the wall at the front door of the apartment, taking a moment to catch their breath.  
“Even dry...her quilts...are _super_ heavy...”  
“Yeah...but, hey...at least we got it up...five flights of stairs...in less than thirty minutes….” Meis spoke up.  
Gueira lifted his head to look over at Meis.  
“Really…?”  
Meis looked over to Gueira, hair spilling to nearly cover up the exposed side of his face.  
“Yeah...check it...” He showed the redhead his phone, indicating that ten minutes had passed since they’d got there.  
Gueira heavily lifted his head to eye the screen, before letting it go slack and raising a single, wobbling fist in the air.  
“New Record...”  
  
After resting, Gueira got to his feet, unlocked the door and went inside the small apartment with Meis in toe.  
“Gueira, welcome back home, _mijo_ .” An old woman greeted from the kitchen table, wobbling up from her aged, ornately carved wooden chair to reach for her cane.  
“Abuela, you don’t need to get up every time I come home...” He sighed, handing the rolling basket over to Meis to speed-walk over to help his grandmother up.  
She waved her hand with a “bah!” before noticing the person standing at the front entrance, admiring the family pictures both new and yellowed that were hung in the small hallway.  
“Oh, I didn’t know you were bringing a friend over.” She said, pushing up her thick-lensed glasses and squinting over at the other, slightly taller boy.  
“Yeah, he’s a friend from school, his name’s Meis.”  
“Meis? What a unique name.” Abuela commented, walking over with the slight tapping of her cane on the aged wooden floor.  
“I’m from Dallas, I recently just moved here over the summer.” Meis smiled.  
“Dallas? Quite a long journey.” Abuela remarked. “How do you like it in the Sunshine state?”  
Meis hummed as he gently placed the hamper to the side with Gueira’s help.  
  
“I’m still getting used to the humidity, but the climate here reminds me of home sometimes.”  
Meis reminisced as sat across from Abuela as he lowered herself to sit in the weathered chair, leaning her cane on the table as she listened.  
“Dallas, however, is usually much chillier in the fall, unlike other cities to the south of Texas we’re more likely to get snow.”  
“A true winter wonderland, hm?” She asked, taking a sip of her warm coffee.  
“Yes, it was quite beautiful.” Meis chuckled, continuing his conversation with the elder.  
  
Meanwhile, across the apartment, Guiera began to unload the fluffy quilts from the hamper, barely being able to see where he needed to put them.  
After finally getting the heavy blankets neatly folded, he stood there, wiping his brow before looking past the small washroom doorway, his sights directly on the seat that Meis was sitting in.  
Gueira found himself staring at his friend and noticing some things he never really had time to notice before.  
Like how his long locks elegantly fell past his shoulders in dark, indigo waves.  
How his lips went up in amusement and how his laugh shook his semi-broad shoulders.  
How his silver-sapphire eyes warmed when he felt pure joy.  
  
“Gueira!” A voice greeted from the entrance hallway as the jingle of keys caught in his ears. “I’m home!”  
“Hey, Mom!” Gueira cleared his throat and stacked the blankets atop one another, walking out of the washroom and towards the closet to stuff them away.  
His mother came in, setting the keys on the key rack and plopping her purse on the hanger at the entrance.  
“How was school today, sweetie?”  
“Good, finally got a passing grade on that test.”  
“‘Passing’ as in what?”  
Gueira could feel the icy glare crawl up his spine and dared not turn around from his spot in the dark closet.  
“A 75...”  
A loud slap of something on wood was heard from the kitchen, silencing the conversation.  
Gueira scurried onto the tile, scrambling to get up as his fearful eyes darted to the doorway.  
  
“Mom, we can talk about this...” Gueira spoke cautiously, slowly walking backward into the kitchen where Abuela and Meis were.  
“You should’ve been studying instead of playing video games all night!”  
Another heavy, loud crack.  
Gueira yelped and ran to sit behind Meis’ chair, pure fear shivering his form.  
Meis expression was full of confusion as Gueira’s mom stomped into the room, a heavy threatening aura surrounding her as Meis noticed she was gripping something in her hand.  
  
A woven sandal, brown and khaki with age.  
  
“Mom! We have a guest! Let’s talk about this later!”  
Upon the mention of the word: ‘Guest’, she immediately did a one-eighty and let the sandal fall to the floor with a loud thud, before sliding it on her bare foot to match with the sandal she wore on the other.  
She beamed, not at all the monster Meis had been previously introduced to.  
“I’m sorry about that,” She began, adjusting her wild hair by tucking some fly-aways behind her ear as she took up and shook Meis’ hand with a warm expression. “I’m Gueira’s mom, nice to meet you.”  
  
Dinner that night was full of laughter and warmth.  
Meis had never felt more at home with a bunch of sem-strangers.  
Then, when he patted his face with a napkin, Abuela began to speak.  
“Meis, do you have room for dessert?” She questioned, reaching over for a small blue tin sitting near the center of the slightly cluttered dinner table.  
“I’m sorry, the food was very good and filling....” He politely declined.  
Well, he attempted.  
“Oh, it’s alright, go on, have one.”  
“They do look delicious, but I’m bursting at the seams.”  
“But look how thin you are! You have a bit more muscle than Gueira, but still.”  
“Hey!”  
  
The two ended up breaking and eating a few, the gritty sugar and buttery taste nearly melting on their tounges.  
  
“Remember when he got ahold of your sewing kit, thinking it was cookies?” Gueira’s Mom began, giggling.  
Meis put another cookie into his mouth, munching lightly with a single brow lifted in confusion.  
“Oh, yes. That taught you a lesson, didn’t it, _mijo_ ?” Abuela chuckled, taking another sip of her coffee.  
Meis’ long raven locks spun with him as he turned over to face Gueira, with an expression that read: ‘Please explain.’  
“No.”  
Meis grabbed another cookie from the large cerulean tin, pressing it to his cheek, poking him with each word.  
“Tell. Me. Guei. ra.”  
Gueira took a deep breath in, crossing his arms across his chest as he closed his eyes and huffed.  
“I once found a tin in the living room, and thought I could sneak a few cookies into my mouth, so, like an idiot, I opened it up and stuck my hand in, and got pricked by five different pins on my finger.”  
“One finger?”  
“Yep. All on the same finger.”  
Meis held back a chortle with a snort, mouth full of danish butter cookie.  
Gueira went red in the face, scooting his chair so his back faced the others at the table.  
While the others went into laughing fits, he grumbled in his seat.  
“I hate all of you.”  
  
\----------  
  
Gueira didn’t know what led to everyone in the house having a small dance party, but there he was, holding a glass of water in the corner of the kitchen, watching his family and friend moving to the music.  
“I thought we were cleaning.”  
“Just one more song, and we’ll get back to it!” His mother called out, going to change the song from her phone.  
  
Gueira’s ears perked up when the first few notes began to play.  
The trumpets tooted, with the violins humming in the background as the piano and rhythm began to build up.  
Oh, no.  
That one song that plays at the Quinces that all the girls go to the dancefloor for.  
 _Stand By Me._  
  
“Ooh~! Let’s dance, Gueira!” His mother exclaimed upon realizing the song.  
“No! I can’t dance!”  
“Don’t be so humble! I’ve seen you dance before!”  
“At _home_ , when _nobody’s around_ !”  
“C’mon, show us your moves!”  
Gueira crossed his arms across his chest, a defiant glare being shot at his mom.  
  
Meis quietly came into the conversation, poking Gueira’s shoulder.  
“I...could teach you if you want,” he spoke up, extending a hand to his friend.  
Gueira stared at Meis’ pale hand for a moment.  
“You _dance_ ?” He cocked an eyebrow in confusion.  
“I’ve been to a few parties. And I’ve learned quite a bit.”  
Gueira took a moment to imagine Meis dominating the dance floor.  
“Fine. Just know that I’m really bad.”  
“That’s alright,” Meis said, accepting the other’s hand as they got into position. “We can take it slow.”  
  
Meis carefully held Gueira’s waist in one hand, the other taking up the tanner male’s hand as he slowly began to dance, allowing for the redhead to follow his moves to the beat as his grip tightened on Meis’ shoulder a bit.  
Meis’ indigo gaze veered down to their sneakers, watching Guiera’s weathered shoes trying their best to keep some space between their feet.  
(Most likely trying not to step on him)  
Meis slowly moved their bodies closer, since the small kitchen as already a bit cramped with the four of them dancing in it.  
  
Gueira gulped, hoping Meis couldn’t feel his clammy hands that he was sure were sweating profusely.  
“There you go.”  
“And we just keep dancing like this?”  
“Basically.”  
“A-alright.”  
  
The two moved together, this way and that, Meis sometimes spinning the other around.  
Until, Guiera tripped on a loose napkin.  
He held onto Meis with a death-grip, dragging him down with him.  
Meis was taken by surprise but managed to catch his friend, mid-fall in a dip.  
Gueira’s crimson orbs glistened as they met with those eyes that reminded him of a clear summer sky with silver glints of stars.  
  
And for the first time in his life, a fire bloomed in his heart.  
And, slowly, something began to dawn on him.  
Maybe, just _maybe_ ...  
He had a crush on Meis.


	2. A Year Without Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your support on this idea of mine!!  
> (And a million apologies for having you wait this long!!)  
> But here's the next chapter where things get a bit joyous and melancholy.
> 
> Enjoy!

Gueira stared out of the window, the sunset hues shifting from orange and rose to violet and indigo. It reminds him of Meis, and he absentmindedly touches the chilled glass of the backseat window to touch the familiar cool colors.    
  
He didn’t miss Meis. That’s what he told himself when the other left him with a frantic text goodbye. That’s what said in his head when he locked himself in his room refusing to come out in the days following Meis’ disappearance. That’s what always echoed in his mind when he got into this hormonal mood swings.    
  
A thumb rubbed at he robin’s egg-colored fabric of his shirt. The one he and Meis bought together one weekend at the mall. It made his chest tighten and his throat dry. He needed to let go, but he couldn’t. He sighed and continued staring at the familiar scenery pass by the window.

  
When he’s finally home, his mom nags him about finally cleaning up his room.   
Reluctantly, Gueira drags himself to clean his pigsty up a bit.   
He’s surprised to see how much old food is stinking it up. Entire pizza boxes under his bed and half-eaten burgers atop plates of unfinished homemade dinner.   
Disgusted, he pinches his nose as he throws them into a trash bag and begins to clean whatever grease stains he can see and reach under his bed.   
  
It takes him almost an hour to complete one section in his room.

His mother had knocked on the door a few minutes ago, calling him for dinner, which he responded with an ‘I’ll let it cool down a bit!’ before stacking up his magazines in a random drawer for the time being.   
Gueira sighed, throwing himself on the mattress as he picked up his phone.   
7:05   
Great. Only a few more hours until bed, and then school and it’s monotonous daily schedule to look forward to for the rest of the week.   
Gueira sighs and begins to put his phone to charge, reaching for the long woven cord to plug his phone in. He waits until a small chime and a vibration to head down to the kitchen. Gueira walks in, grabs a bowl and fills it with soup. He then takes a seat, pulling the chair back with a creak and squeak on the wooden floor.    
  
“Mijo, how was school today?”   
“Alright, just a bit tiring.”   
“I can tell, your eyes have dark circles.” Abuela began, pushing up her glasses with the pad of her pointer finger as she chuckled. “You look like a Raccoon.”   
Gueira sheepishly laughed, sipping up a spoonful of his broth as his ears heard something coming from the living room beside the kitchen. He knew it had to be the T.V. since his Abuela liked to watch the evening news while she ate to keep up with the world.   
  
Gueira peeked over from the table to see the news and on the screen. His eyes immediately focused on the monster of a burnish, golden teeth glistening in the cyan-yellow-magenta firelight, two threatening arms extended from its back, jabbing at the building the troupe was attacking, each strike stronger than the last, quickly breaking the concrete as the rest of the group raided the gas station for anything they could hold. Chips, soda, and various other snacks fell from their grasps as they fleed the scene, the tallest leader of the group standing guard outside, slashing at the freeze force trucks with its jagged arms, like barbarous blades outlined in a brilliant neon blue.    
  
They signaled to the group to run faster.    
The other Burnish hesitated, most likely wanting the larger Burnish to come with them.    
The large Burnish shook their head, fitted with a single burning azure horn as they screamed at them, barely audible in a beast-like distortion.    
“I’ll be fine! Get everyone back to the base! I’ll catch up with y’all later!”    
The other Burnish nodded in understanding and sped off on their bikes, losing some their loot in their wake, burning to a crisp in their trails of fire.   
The beastly Burnish fought back the armed vehicles of Freeze Force, eventually having to create a wall of fire to buy enough time to flee safely.   
  
Gueira felt something pulse under his skin, throughout his body when he laid his eyes on the Scorpion-like Burnish. His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen, watching as the ice from Freeze Force extinguished the vibrant flames that danced in his garnet irises. He shook off his trance-like state, his rouge-cinnamon curls bouncing as he shook his head. Thinking it odd, but eventually nothing of it, he resumed his dinner. Trying to not eye the T.V. while his grandmother turned to face it with nearly every bite.

* * *

Gueira couldn’t sleep that night.   
His eyes had been staring at the ceiling for a solid fifteen minutes now.   
(He had his nearby clock to confirm)   
No matter how hard he tried to close his eyes and just drift away, but...   
He just couldn’t do it.   
  
Was it because he had to pee?   
Nah, he’d already gone to the bathroom three times tonight.   
  
Was he thirsty?   
Not really, he actually felt waterlogged.   
  
Was it because he had used his phone before he went to bed?   
Nah...that couldn’t be it…   
Could it?   
  
_ //Meis...// _   
A small voice chirped in his mind.   
Gueira jolted upright in his bed, cold sweat drenching his shirt.   
What the hell was that?   
  
He squinted his eyes in the inky blackness of his room, nothing.   
Gueira wiped his face with the cloth on his still-dry shoulders.   
“Just a dream.” he sighed, falling back into his slightly damp sheets, arms sprawled out beside him as his mind echoed a single name.   
  
Meis.   
  
Gueira knew why he couldn’t shake him off. He knew why his heart ached every time he heard that name. He knew he was hopelessly enamored with that visage of coolness that was Meis.    
  
He didn’t know why Meis left without telling him.   
They’d been inseparable ever since they met. They’d gone skateboarding, they’d gone to the movies, they’d gotten matching tattoos, goddammit!   
Gueira felt a pain burn up the length of his arm. He had punched the headboard again.   
  
He rubbed his knuckles, wincing, his flesh pulsing with discomfort one moment.   
Only for it to be gone the next.   
The pain Gueira had felt slowly began to make his hand warmer.   
And warmer. And warmer. And hotter until-   
  
His hand was glowing.   
His knuckles were alight with an orange glow.   
Moving his palm to fold open, the illumination, like a glowstick began to spread to his entire palm.   
Then, a spark.   
A small spark that, when Gueira lightly pressed a single digit to, blossomed into a plume of fire in his hand.   
  
Gueira’s eyes danced with the swaying of the odd flame.   
Back and forth. Back and forth.   
His eyelids drooped as the firelight dimmed.   
_ //Don’t be afraid.//  _ that small sound assured him as his senses began to shut down and his world faded into black.   
_ //I promise...I won't hurt you...// _

* * *

Gueira awoke in a brightly-lit plane, empty, seemingly infinite and very, blindingly white.

“Where the hell..?” He scratched his head, realizing with a speedy scanning of the area that he was the only one there.

“What is this place? Has my mind really hit the bottom of the barrel for dreams?” He sighed, going around almost in an entire circle to find an exit.

No luck.

Gueira huffed, and plopped himself on the hard ground with a thump, sitting like he was used to sitting - like a delinquent.

He needed to take a moment to consider first, what this place was before he could start thinking of a way to escape it.

While he huffed and puffed, he looked across the blank plane, eyes dragging along the distance in search of anything that could help him get out.

That’s when his carnelian gaze fell upon a figure on the near horizon.

Finally! A person!

Gueira got to his feet and picked up his usual walking pace to approach this mysterious figure.

His tracks slowed as the other person’s head turned to look over their broad shoulders spilling with long dark locks.

He had a hand reached out towards this stranger, and it dropped as the other resident’s face came into Gueira’s line of sight.

Gueira’s eyes dilated, his breath caught in his throat, tears warmed his eyes and threatened to fall.   
His voice quivered as it struggled to come out.

  
“Meis?”

The stranger’s body shivered as he turned his entire form to face him, Gueira’s sight catching the familiar characters on the person’s arm.   
“Gueira?”   
“Is it really you?”   
Meis bit his lip, moving his hand to absentmindedly twirl a strand of his hair around his pale finger. His visible grey eye darted around nervously as he took a step back.   
Gueira didn’t know what came over him, but he felt embarrassed. He, too, moved back until the space between the two felt comfortable.   
  
The two stared at each other fleetingly, trying not to catch each other’s eye. Their minds racing with the same ideas as their gazes went up and down each other:   
‘He’s gotten a bit taller’    
‘Wait,’   
‘Why am I dreaming of him looking like  _ this _ ?!’   
‘Why is this place so f*cking  _ warm _ ?!!’   
‘Why does he look so  _ cool _ ?!!!!’   
  
A pair of voices cackled to one another silently as they observed the awkward display beneath them.   
Gueira, enveloped in the logic that this was a dream world, regained what small bits of composure that he had left as he spun on his heel. Clearing his throat, he took a breath in and addressed ‘Meis’ in his most manliest of tones.   
“Meis.”   
“Yeah?”   
“It’s, uh, been a while,” Gueira began, still not entirely making eye-contact with ‘Meis’. “Hasn’t it?”   
“It has,” ‘Meis’ responded, peeking upwards to catch a glance at the other male. “I never thought you would look cooler than you did before.”   
Guiera’s temperature spiked, but he coughed it off.   
“Speak for yourself, man,” Gueira began, eyeing ‘Meis’ attire. “Your steel-toed boots look badass.”   
“Went back home and got me a pair. Much better than sneakers when riding around on my bike.”   
_ ‘Dream Meis has a bike? So cool!’ _ _   
_   
_ ‘So, this is what I think you must look like.’ _ Gueira took a few, cautious steps towards Meis, his hand reaching out ever so slightly to brush a sleek strand of Meis’ dark hair behind his ear.   
_ ‘He didn’t move away from me? Dream Meis is pretty shy, huh?’ _   
“You’re really handsome.”   
“So are you.”   
Gueira felt his heartbeat thump wildly in his ears. Even his voice was a bit deeper and richer. And, in this dream, he seemed to be acting a bit bashful.   
  
“You really think so?”   
“Well, you haven’t really changed too much.” Meis leaned into Guiera’s touch, reveling in the warmth he still radiated.   
  
Then, that voice came back to him, breaking the immersion of the moment he was enjoying.   
_ //Meis, you should let all your feelings out to him~.// _ _   
_ _ /Why? He’s just a dream. A figment of my imagination./ _ _   
_ _ //Oh, ho, ho~?// _ _   
_ Meis decided to ignore the voice inside of him and instead focused on how this dream of his made his best friend look so... _ not _ like he thought he would be.   
  
His attention was drawn back in when Gueira addressed him again, his face a bit closer and voice a bit quieter than before.   
Meis’ silver-indigo eyes shot back up to meet with Gueira’s padparadscha orbs.   
He felt like stepping back but couldn’t bring himself to.   
“This may be a bit forward but uh, Dream Meis?”   
_ //’ _ Dream Meis’ _? Nice nickname!// _ _   
_ Meis’ eye twitched when that annoying tone came back into his head. _   
_ _ /Shut up./  _ he snapped. _   
_ “Y-yeah?”   
“Can I, since this is a dream and all.”   
_ //Oh, ho~?// _   
“Can I kiss you?”   
  
Meis’ heart skipped a beat. He felt a warmness bloom along his cheeks.   
  
_ //THERE IT IS! TAKE IT!  _ **_TAKE IT!_ ** _!// _   
_ /SHUT UP! THIS IS  _ JUST _ A DREAM!/ _   
_ //That’s what you want to believe~.// _ _   
_ _ /Hah?/ _ _   
_ _ //Nothing~!// _ _   
_ _   
_ “Meis? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Gueira’s voice was low as he nearly bumped foreheads with his close friend.   
Meis’ pale complexion went pink as he tried to avoid both eye contact and the feel of Gueira’s warm hands on his clammy ones.   
He wanted to say something. He had to, or this dream would just go to waste!   
Meis swallowed. Then he sighed.    
_//So, are you gonna do it~?//_  
Meis' heart thundered in his head. Every thought being drowned out by the building up of thumps. of blood rushing to his face. His eyes darted around the empty plane, eventually landing on Gueira's shoulderblade. Slightly obscured by his light blue shirt, he absentmindedly traced a finger along the visible dark lines...   
Just as Gueira was leaning forward to press their lips together.  
  
It was barely a brush of their skin, but it was warm.  
Gueira was always warm. But this? This spark ignited an inferno that made Meis' body nearly combust.  
And with that whirlwind of emotions, the plane fell into darkness.

* * *

Gueira’s sight is shrouded in black. His ears ringing as he scrambles to grab his phone to shut off the irritatingly loud alarm.   
He’s panting, way too hot under his blankets. His shirt is surprisingly dry, except for a few drops of sweat...that...keep dripping?   
Gueira feels a need to scratch his chin. His hand comes up to itch, but freezes as he feels the coolness of water on the back of his hand.   
Gueira registers the cold sensation on his cheeks. The burning of his eyes. The blurriness of the bright screen reading what he can assume to say 6:45.   
Finally, the realization hits his chest. And it hurts. It feels hollow. Empty. Cold.   
  
His fingers drop the weight of his device with a light thump on his quilt.   
They trail up his chin and graze over his dry lips.   
That was all a dream? In all its vividness, in all its perfection and happiness...it was just one elaborate fantasy?   
That reverberated in the frigid cavity of his heart.   
He gripped the cloth above his heart, hoping to squeeze out all these feelings that made him weak.   
He didn’t miss Meis.   
But he loved him so much it hurt.

* * *

“That was cruel.”   
_ //So what? You should be glad he’s at least a Burnish.// _   
Meis’ lips narrowed into a line.   
_//Lemme guess…’ That’s even worse than torturing him through a dream’.//_   
Meis slammed his fists on the sandy soil, which was harder than he thought.   
“I never wanted him to see me.” Meis began, unraveling his fist. “I just wanted to see him again.”   
_ //And I helped you with that. So, why are you angry?// _ _   
_ “I thought he’d be angry with me. I left too quickly when you emerged.” he swallowed hard, nails bunching at his pants. “I should’ve at least told him how I felt. I should’ve told him that I needed to leave. And I should’ve known that that firey personality was perfect for one of you to latch onto.”   
The fire felt that silver glare send shivers throughout their form.   
_ //Sometimes… it’s not our choice who we decide t bond with.// _   
Meis dropped his head, waves of midnight obscuring his face.   
_ //We’re lost. Far from home and we don’t know how to get back.// _ the flame began, manifesting itself in Meis’ interlaced hands.  _ //We’re just as scared as you are, if not more so. We don’t fully understand how humans can preach one thing and not follow their own words. We cannot understand their prejudices against others of their own kind.// _   
“That doesn’t exist between your kind?”   
_ //We do have similar social classes based on individual power, but besides that, we could care less about what others of our kind look like.// _   
A pale face was lit in hues of cerulean and lilac from under the inky strands. Meis looked into the wavering life form in his palms.   
“I want to see him again.”   
_ //Then why don’t we pay him a visit?// _   
“I- _ we _ can’t. Too risky.”   
_ //But doesn’t he live on the outskirts of the city? We could raid some nearby remnants, or just take them for shelter so you can see him again and so we can fuel up on supplies.// _   
“We did lose a lot more than I was expecting from the raid yesterday. But, even so, that’s too dangerous. I’d need some info on if there are any places good enough to even raid before considering it.”   
_ //You  _ _ are _ _ the boss. But, based on intel from others of my kind, there are a few Burnish living in secret in that city, like your dream boat, Gueira.// the spark danced. //We could convince them to add to our numbers. And, if your loverboy happens to be strong enough, maybe even make him a member of Mad Burnish. Hm?// _   
Meis bit his lip, eyes still following the gradient of his tiny flare.   
“What if we’re caught again?”   
_ //We’ll just break out again. No biggie.// _ _   
_ Meis chuckled at the old phrase, straightening his posture as he moved the firey creature to rest in his right palm.   
“Your vocabulary is getting quite varied.”   
_ //Glad you noticed. But don’t change the subject! Honestly tell me what you think about his idea!//  _   
“Fine.”   
_ //First, we’ll gather everyone up, and make our way according to what other Burnish have reported. Then, we’ll take residence at a nearby, abandoned gas station. Where we’ll meet with the small Burnish group there and make negotiations for them to join our group.// _   
“Negotiations as in ‘talking’ or ‘fighting’?”   
_ //Whichever comes first.// _ _   
_ Meis sighed. He still ached from the last ‘negotiation’ he had with another Burnish leader.   
_ //After we’ve taken them ‘under our wing’, we’ll check to make sure our guys are safe before sneaking out at night to find your mate.// _ _   
_ “He’s  _ not _ my mate.”   
_ //Not yet he isn’t~.// _   
Meis hid his face under his dark locks again, but that just resulted in his companion firebug snickering to itself.   
The warm lifeform’s laugh faded as its flare climbed up Meis’ arm, sparks outlining the ‘Wind Blade’ tattoo on his left forearm.   
_ //So, Meis, leader of the Mad Burnish,//  _ _   
_ _ //What’s our next move?// _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Promare chatting while Gueimei struggle to accept that they can communicate via Promare-dreams))
> 
> I'm more excited than ever to continue this! (though school may slow me down, I will do my best to prevail for y'all who have come to love this story!!)
> 
> Until next time!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking the time to check this out!  
> Criticism of any kind is appreciated!


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